Midoriya, like most Japanese people, was never religious except in a customary, matter-of-fact sense. If asked, he might say he doesn't really profess a religion, or simply shrug. But he's checked his apartment for ghosts and leaves little offerings to large and small deities when he happens upon their shrines. It's just practical to avoid restless spirits and polite to pay respects to local kami.

Normally the shedding of blood is considered pollution and not a suitable offering. This is not a Sleeper preconception, but one Midoriya carried from home. However, Midoriya readily accepts that Pthumerians can operate on a different logic. He's used to the concept of multitudinous gods, each more different than the last.

He balls his hands into fists at his sides and frowns, tight-lipped. He needs Paul strong and ready for anything, not like this.

"...What made you scared just a minute ago," he answers.

He folds his legs under him as he did when kneeling in Kaworu's room. He doesn't face Paul as an adversary, but by his side as a friend, ally, and fellow supplicant. He stares at the little smoking cone giving off its cloying holy scent.

"A while ago, someone apologized for hurting me. I didn't realize that I needed to hear it, to know they cared about me. I... almost didn't get to hear it at all." A tear slips down his freckled cheek as he looks at Paul. "Yeah, sometimes you give someone love or kindness, and it's rejected. Kaworu-kun might not even be looking at us. But please tell him."